Avant Garden
by RavissemenT
Summary: Lily Evans knew how her life was supposed to go. She knew her career path, how many children she wanted to have, and where she wanted to buy a vacation house.
1. Default Chapter

It had been a while. I don't care to try to remember how long it had been, but I know it had been a while. And there my grandmother was, asking me why I didn't have a boyfriend. As if I needed it rubbed in. But I wasn't going to lower myself to her level. I could have, of course. I could have said something about her being old and alone, living in this sad excuse for a house, talking to her cats because everybody else outside her family had long since deserted her. But I didn't. I just sat there, in her stuffy, mould-smelling living room, trying to ignore her grating voice and the plastic covering the sofa that chaffed my bare legs.

"You should try going out wearing a paper bag on your head. You're legs are nice enough – you could maybe catch a boy if that's all he saw of you." She took a long drag on her cigarette, amusement creating a hint of a sparkle in her dull, brown eyes.

I looked over at my mother, trying to hint that I'd like to leave. She looked sympathetic, but shook her head. We'd have to stay the entire hour.

"Maybe I'll try that sometime, Grandma." I smiled at her; a smile that wavered slightly as she began to laugh.

"Wouldn't that be a bloody hoot? Lillian Evans walking around her precious school wearing a paper bag on her head!"

"Yeah," I trailed off, looking down at my shoes. There was a scuff on the side of the left one, I noticed with annoyance. The shoes were new; shiny and white. I had wanted to wear them to the first day of school, which was only a week away. Maybe they'd impress somebody. Probably not.

The rest of the hour went by without much of my notice. Mother had intervened, directing the conversation instead towards my sister, Petunia. She didn't have to come today. She got to spend the day with Vernon. Just because they were engaged. Big bloody deal. It wasn't as if Vernon was something special; just a sad, overweight bloke who was so surprised to not get turned down that he asked the girl to marry him. Five weeks into the relationship. And Petunia, equally surprised at being asked out on a date, had accepted. And later accepted his proposal. But none of this was important to my grandmother. She shot me scathing looks as my mother divulged the "Oh so delicious details."

At last we were out of the stiflingly hot house, and my mother, apologizing profusely for having put me through that, opened the car door for me. At least with her and dad I was respected. They still told me everyday how proud they were that I was a witch, and that I was really making something of myself in the wizarding world. Other members of my family, however, did not share the same view.

"What do you mean, she's a witch?" my grandmother had demanded upon hearing the news. "I know she can be a bit of a brat sometimes, but I wouldn't go so far as to call her a witch!"

My mother tried to explain, as patiently as her pride in me would let her. "No, mum. She is an actual witch. Like, in books and such. Magical, and the like." Her face shone with delight.

Grandma Elizabeth didn't even pretend to pleased. After that her favourite was Petunia, and no matter what my parents said, she wouldn't consent to acknowledge my accomplishments, or even, for the first two years, my existence. And then she settled into her happy little routine of mocking me. But as I only have to see her once a year, it didn't much matter. I had better things to think of.

Like my imminent return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where I was the Head Girl, well liked, and pursued most determinedly by one James Potter. Whom I most certainly did not like. Though he may look incredibly fit out on the quidditch pitch.

Silver steam rose from the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express as hundreds of students packed the small boarding station. My mother and dad stood nearby, minding my cart as I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to find somebody I knew. Fortunately, after only a few minutes of searching, I found Vanessa Carmichael. She was leaning over the handrail of her baggage cart, smile languidly. Her long black hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her shirt hung rather low in the front. A third year tripped over himself as he passed by her, gawking.

"Hey, 'Ness."

She turned to me, smiling. "Morning, Lily." She turned her gaze back to the crowd, dark eyes seemingly searching for something. "Have you heard the news?"

"News?" I noticed Vanessa's smile becoming somewhat mischievous.

"Uh-huh. The new Head Boy. I thought you might be interested in who it is."

I shrugged, looking down at my immaculate robes and new white shoes. New shoes with a scuff on the side of them. "Who is it, then?"

"James."

"James Dunford from Hufflepuff?" She shook her head, eyes still locked on the mass of students between her and the train.

"James Potter."

My mind went blank. It was impossible. Totally, most definitely impossible. Nothing on this planet could have convinced anyone in their right mind to make James Potter Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I told Vanessa that.

Now she shrugged. "I always said Dumbledore was out of his mind. But he is the Headmaster, and as such, the power to choose the Head Boy and Girl is his." She finally turned to look at me, amusement flickering in her eyes. "I bet you'll have a lot of fun this year."

I grimaced at her, rolling my eyes. Of course she'd say that, she didn't have to put up with Potter's catcalls and taunts.

"He's not [I]that[/I] bad, is he?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over a group of chattering first years.

I rolled my eyes again, checking my watch. The train was already loading its passengers and I wasn't even on board. "Got to dash," I said, hardly trying to sound sincere.

She was laughing again, making me even angrier. "Play nice!" she called, straightening to push her cart to the train. I noticed her underwear poking out of the back of her jeans but decided not to tell her. Best let somebody else do that.


	2. Chapter 2

I was the first person in the prefect's cabin, and for a few glorious minutes I thought that perhaps Potter just wouldn't show up. The Heads were supposed to be in the prefect cabin before the train departed, and though I could distinctly hear the sound of the wheels slowly beginning to churn, and see my parents standing with the rest of the families waving their children good-bye as the train pulled out of the station, there was no sign of the infamous Potter.

"'Praps Vanessa was wrong," I murmured, waving sullenly at my parents as they slowly shrank from view. They had been very upset about seeing their youngest daughter off to her final year of school, and though they tried to hide it, were very disappointed that Petunia had elected not to come. I couldn't blame her – who wouldn't want to spend more time with Vernon? Apparently he had an interview with some company called Grunnings, and Petunia was most insistent that she be around to wish him good luck.

"Lily, love," a voice that would have been suave had belonged to the most immature and infuriating person on the planet purred, drawing my attention to the face of James Potter as he leaned against the doorframe, already dressed in his robes with the Head Boy badge pinned to his chest. It would have looked better if the pin was going _through_ his chest, but perhaps I was being too harsh.

"Potter," I replied, my attention once again on the window and the scenery flying by.

"Oh, don't pretend you're not surprised to see me. You thought I wouldn't show, of course. But you'll find that I'm a great deal more mature than I once was." I could feel him sink onto the seat beside me, and I could practically hear the smirk he surely wore. "I don't suppose you would have noticed that, though."

"Sadly, no," I shot back, startling him; he probably didn't expect me to answer. I usually kept to the policy that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. But the unexpected treat of having him as Head Boy brought out the unpleasant side of me. "I just noticed how much of a prat you still are." Alright, not the best insult in the world, but I'm not usually one to try to offend people.

"Ouch, Evans. That really hurts; almost as much as it must have hurt you to learn that I was Head Boy."

I didn't get a chance to tell him how right he was, as the timid-looking fifth and sixth year prefects began to stream into the cabin, all looking as surprised as I would have been to find Potter and myself sitting side by side.

"Please, take my seat," I urged a sixth year Ravenclaw girl, standing to count the heads of the students assembled before me. Potter too stood, but not before smiling at the girl, sending her into a small fit of giggles.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Potter exclaimed in his best Dumbledore impression, beaming at the prefects. I quickly counted to make sure they were all here – twelve bodies, all donning a gleaming, silver prefect badge. Four prefects per each house, and three houses. Plus Potter and I made fourteen. Everyone was there and accounted for.

I smiled sweetly, stepping in front of James. "Yes, welcome to another year. I'm Lily Evans, and this is James Potter, and we're your Head Girl and Head Boy. Now, if you all would allow me a few minutes, I will delegate each of the assignments and you may return to your friends."

Potter and I called the names of each of the students, handing them a sheaf of parchment and a small handshake before nodding them to the door. Potter, I noticed, was adding more flourish than was absolutely necessary. And why did he think it appropriate to wink at the girls when they came to collect their assignment from him?

* * *

I decided to stay for the remainder of the train ride in the prefect's cabin, looking over my new set books. All the others had left, off either to complete their assignments, or to rejoin their friends and procrastinate for as long as possible. Potter too had taken off as soon as I ended the meeting. Didn't even bother staying long enough to answer any questions the others may have had. The fact that they didn't have any questions wasn't important.

"Hello, Lily."

I looked up from my book, a rather dry selection about medieval muggles, and saw Sirius Black leaning against the doorframe, one jean-clad ankle crossed over the other. His grey sweater was a bit too tight for my taste, but produced the wearer's desired effect in accentuating the chest and arm muscles carefully sculpted after hours on the Quidditch pitch.

"Hullo, Sirius."

His composure remained cool and somewhat distant as he folded his arms against his chest, flexing his biceps. Bloody showoff. Still very fit, though. "I have a favour to ask of you."

"Do you?" I returned my gaze to the book, finding it rather more difficult to pay attention. I certainly didn't feel any attraction to Sirius, but come on. He was one fine looking bloke. Even though he had a horrible personality. Must remember the horrible personality.

"It's a small thing, nothing too big. If you could just do it for me ... as a pal."

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know we were pals. "What is it Sirius?"

He sighed, prolonging the moment before he would have to speak. "Be nice to James. More than nice. Just look past his idiotic antics, and try to be his friend. He's actually not that bad a person."

"Did he ask you to ask me that?" I looked up at Sirius, wondering what in the name of all that is magical he really wanted from me. Surely he didn't actually want me to befriend that ... boy.

"No," Sirius replied, avoiding my gaze. "I'm just concerned for the well-being of a good mate of mine." He shrugged, pushing himself away from the doorframe. I had to remind myself to not stare at him. "And so far as I know, that's not a crime."

I rolled my eyes, more to tear my gaze away from his body than to repute what he had said. "Fine, I'll try. But I can't promise any more than that."

"I didn't ask you to." He spread his hands in a supplicating manner, backing through the door. "Just try really hard."

I thought of a really good insult about two minutes after he had gone. Bugger.


End file.
